Sheela Na Gig
The term 'cunt' heretofore was a slur in almost every context. The erstwhile offensiveness of 'cunt' resided also in its plosive phonetics and its semantic reductionism, the word is an ugly sonic package; as compact as a stone!
Ha!
Sonic package of power!
This word, however, has been reclaimed by some confident women as an ironic self-identifier, an ironic term of endearment and empowerment, in the same way that other, older, terms of disparagement have been adopted by certain other people they describe – like the word, “queer” in the Gay community.
We homogametic cuntbutlers intend a full re-appropriation of this word, a counter-hegemonic re-purposing as it were. It is now ours!
We will subvert the male-endowed perniciousness of the word. We will use it gladly, rather than shamefully.
So.........
You cunts can go fuck yourselves!
Reverse pejoration!
We own it!
We live it!
We be it!
Its use is an act of affirmation by self and not negation by others. It is used only as a hallelujah to the flower of our womanhood!
Still, 'cunt' will remain an insult to men because it acts as a verbal castration, removing their masculinity by denying them their penis!
After all, they are nowt but lowly base animals of the troth when it comes down to it. Right?
Call us a cunt?
"Did you just call me a cunt? Thank you so much!"
And if you had malice of intent? Well little man, with the abrasive phonetics of that harsh, non-sibilant C, followed by the glorious grunt of that uterine U and the moaning plosive of that gamine N, finished off with the contemptuous spit of that final T, "Right back atcha mister!"
Innit?
Well, did she make you cry, We live it!
We be it!
Its use is an act of affirmation by self and not negation by others. It is used only as a hallelujah to the flower of our womanhood!
Still, 'cunt' will remain an insult to men because it acts as a verbal castration, removing their masculinity by denying them their penis!
After all, they are nowt but lowly base animals of the troth when it comes down to it. Right?
Call us a cunt?
"Did you just call me a cunt? Thank you so much!"
And if you had malice of intent? Well little man, with the abrasive phonetics of that harsh, non-sibilant C, followed by the glorious grunt of that uterine U and the moaning plosive of that gamine N, finished off with the contemptuous spit of that final T, "Right back atcha mister!"
Innit?
Make you break down,
Shatter your illusions of love?
And is it over now?
Do you know how?
Pick up the pieces and go home